Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
That's what they called her.
She'd run around in her white gown,
thinking no one could touch her.
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
That's what she'd heard.
As all the people around town tried to control her
Didn't even exist, but people could see her
Her non-existent heart wrenched as she watched people around her.
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
That's what she'd seen.
Figured she'd put them all out of their misery,
Red splattering her gown,
As they bowed down like she were their queen.
She was the talk of town,
As she ran around
Now that she knew she could only be seen
By those who weren't sane in the brain
How cruel of this world to be so mean
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
That's what they called her.
Her white gown turning brown from the dirt of the world around her
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
Just a ghost of what those who wanted help wanted.
A cruel reality-check,
They were all haunted.
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly,
That's what she'd been seen as
Her ghostly form
She showed no remorse
As she left them in the dirt
Pretty Dolly,
Pretty Dolly.

BOO!
I’m sorry was that —
BOO!
OH pardon m—
BOO!
I’m sorry did I scare you?
but how …?
I simply walked into the room
I’m sorry, we’ve only made eye contact
and you're scared?
scared of what?
I’m not a phantom…
I’m not a spirit…
I’m not a gh —
wait… I get it
I see whats happening here
I’m black… i scared you because I'm black
you're scared of my skin color
you're scared of me so you clutch your bag as i walk by
you cross the street so you don't have to walk by me
you avoid eye contact
you kidnapped my people from our country and enslaved them
you kept us as property
you were scared of us so you made sure we stayed inferior
you instated segregation when you thought we would be free
when you thought we would come out on top you made sure we weren't equal
you made sure the black race was dehumanized
you made sure we couldn't get equal education
you made sure we couldn't drink from the same water fountains
you made sure the people who spoke out were executed
you made sure no matter what
my people were in constant fear for their lives…
no I am neither a ghost nor a ghoul
Im black
BOO!
i scared you because I'm black

I've bled them dry,
How fine how fine,

For once in their eyes,
They now hold no life.

Nor apple seed bloom,
Nor mannequin beheld.

Always too soon,
to be put on the shelf.

I am a crime scene
There is blood on the walls

I go out, a sorcerer, in the dark, damp, early morning air
flicking my eyes towards the shadow of a passing thought
shedding my skin for the coming day.

That song comes on, and I try not to let it register.

We are, all of us, whirling galaxies
asleep but awake
crashing
crashing
into one another
and then falling apart
again and again

"...nice to hold...when I'm tired..."

A breeze sends a chill down my spine
and I realize
I let myself fall sad
an oak tree struck by lightning

"...when I die...will I go..."

I go out, a sorcerer, in the dark, damp early morning air.

Sunday morning,
and the sun is peaking through the blinds
after a long sleepless night.

The monster that hung over my head all night
is sticking around for the light, it seems,
and it is scaring my Pothos'.

As they wilt,
I am changing the song that's playing,
It's too haunting, too obvious.

An old friend, this specter has become.
I laugh as he spills my coffee.

Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.